Mail Archives: djgpp/1997/01/22/17:26:00
Once upon a time (on 21 Jan 97 at 16:22) Gene Buckle said:
> > > Of all the great examples I've found for writing IRQ handlers, I've not
> > > seen one that documents how to pass a parameter (specifically a pointer
> > > to a structure) to the installed routine.
> > The only way I can see is through shared (and locked!) memory.
>
> The whole program is locked in memory via the CRT0 flags. My problem is
> that the program calling the interrupt (0xef in this case) won't be the same
> one that has the code for the actual ISR in it. ;)
Hmm... that changes things a bit. *If* your proggy will work under DPMI 1.0
server and *if* the other program is guaranteed to use DPMI services, then
shared memory is not a dream - you have it for free. If these conditions are
not satisfied, you can provide a callback (say hanging on int2fh) that will
pass the RM/PM address (as specified in registers on entry to the int2Fh
handler) of the shared memory block you've allocated *from DOS* using DPMI
services. Note that this memory has to come from DOS since it is not
guaranteed that your "server's" memory will map 1:1 to DOS memory, and thus
whether it will be accessible for other DOS apps or not. You pass the calling
app a far pointer to the memory block (again RM/PM) and that's it!
> > _http://ananke.amu.edu.pl/~grendel_________________________
> > We buy fresh bagels from the corner store where swastikas
> > are spat from areosols. I sit in the bar sipping iced white
> > russians, trying to score but nobody's pushing. And everyone
> > looks at everyone's faces, searching for signs and praying
> > for traces of a conscience in residence, are we sitting on
> > a barbed wire fence chasing the clouds home?
> >
>
> You've got a collection of the oddest .sig quotes.... ;)
Thanks, I do my best! ;-) I'm constantly extending the set - they're going to
be even more odd, I promise! ;-)
_http://ananke.amu.edu.pl/~grendel_________________________
We buy fresh bagels from the corner store where swastikas
are spat from areosols. I sit in the bar sipping iced white
russians, trying to score but nobody's pushing. And everyone
looks at everyone's faces, searching for signs and praying
for traces of a conscience in residence, are we sitting on
a barbed wire fence chasing the clouds home?
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